


Nine

by Everyday_Im_Preaching



Series: It's Raining [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: ABO, Alpha Males, Alpha!Bill, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Horror, M/M, Omega Verse, Omega!Dipper, Sequel to Nowhere To Go But Down, Universe Alteration, alpha/beta AU, supernatural horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2018-11-23 03:16:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11394249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyday_Im_Preaching/pseuds/Everyday_Im_Preaching
Summary: This fanfiction is a sequel to the fic Nowhere to Go But Down, and the second installment to the It's Raining series. If you haven't read the first one, well--this isn't going to make a lot of sense!-----[ON HIATUS]Dipper was sold off to an alpha that he'd never met, moved to a town he'd never wanted to live in, and been forced to abandon his dreams; when he'd finally begun to accept his fate, his alpha unintentionally made things worse. Much worse.Now faced with the apocalypse itself, Dipper and Bill struggle to survive--all while trying to keep their newfound relationship from crumbling apart.





	1. Is It Too Late Now To Say Sorry?

**Author's Note:**

> WELCOME BACK.  
> Let me just say I am so sorry that this took so long. Life is hard. But also let me say, welcome to the long-awaited sequel to Nowhere To Go But Down--now sit back, relax, and if you really liked this chapter, please comment below!

Bill couldn’t speak for a moment as the entire world slowed to a crawl around them. The lamplights above them danced across Bill’s hair, creating the illusion of a mock halo around his head. Dipper returned his blank look, trying not to look angry—trying to  _ understand.  _

“How did I  _ accidentally  _ start the apocalypse?” Bill asked, face twitching as it tried to settle on an emotion. Tears were beginning to bead in the corners of his eyes, and he reached a hand up toward Dipper. Fingers gently drew themselves over the curve of the omega's cheek, silently tapping against each and every freckle. “I… Easily, I guess.” His hand fell away, smacking against the asphalt.

Dipper scooted closer to the alpha, pressing up against his side and letting the weight of his head fall softly onto his shoulder. Bill wrapped an arm around Dipper's shoulders, his body now reduced to shaking. Dipper looked at the reddened hue that the sky had taken on, and slowly nodded his head.

“I mean, it wasn't that easy,” Dipper told him, lips turning down in a thoughtful frown. Bill snorted, nuzzling Dipper's face gently. “If you think about it, you put a lot of work into this. Congrats.” When Bill let out a displeased grunt, Dipper shook his head. “No, I'm honest. I never would have thought that you could pull this off. Like. The end of the world as we knew it. I mean, I'm almost impressed.”

“Your sass isn't appreciated, Dipper.” Bill grinned as he spoke, gifting a kiss to Dipper's eyebrow. His grin fell in an instant. “I… Dipper, Mason—my beautiful omega. I never thought this would work. I never wanted a world like this for you. If I knew.” Bill inhaled shakily, tears freely slipping free now. “If I knew that this is what awaited you by becoming my mate, I never would have pursued you.”

Dipper pressed closer to Bill, offering a soft, loving trill. Bill responded, his own trill broken and weak. He nuzzled Dipper's face once again, kissing at the skin beneath his lips. Gentle, affectionate kisses were exchanged, soft and sweet. Bill was unsettled, and Dipper felt the urge to soothe him.

“What are we going to do now?” Dipper asked, pulling away from his alpha. He got a dejected whine in return, and Dipper tugged sharply on his tie. “You are  _ not  _ off the hook, Mr. Cipher. Apocalypse. As proud as I am of your accomplishment, you have to know that I am one-hundred percent pissed  _ the fuck off. _ ”

Bill let out a low growl at the challenge in Dipper's voice, but was cut off when Dipper yanked at his tie again, leaving the noise scratchy and strangled. After a short coughing fit, Bill cleared his throat.

“Fair enough,” Bill told him roughly, curling his fingers around Dipper's hand and drawing it up to his lips so he could kiss the omega's palm. “Choking me should be the least amount of punishment that I should expect from this.” When Dipper didn't reply, Bill sighed. It was hollow and ashamed, coming from somewhere deep in Bill's chest. “I apologised.”

Dipper cocked his head to the side, taking a second to simply  _ stare  _ at the alpha.

“First off, let's get this out of the way. The word sorry hasn't left your lips since I found you,” Dipper told the alpha, using every bit of his self-control not to spit out the words. “And what do you think an apology is even going to do? It's not a magic rewind button, it's not going to make everything just go back to the way it was.”

“It might make you feel better?” Bill offered meekly, running his free hand through his hair. He cringed away from the feel of it. “I need a shower.” Dipper took a deep breath, fists clenching then releasing slowly. He withdrew his hand from Bill's grip, and then placed both on Bill's face. His fingers cupped the tanned skin, gentle yet unshakable, forcing the alpha to look into his eyes.

“Do you know how to fix this?” Dipper asked slowly. “Do you have any sort of idea in that big, superstitious brain of yours that might help?” Bill cocked an eyebrow at Dipper in question.

“Why on earth would I? It was an accident,” the alpha said, as if Dipper had spoken in a different language. Dipper brought his hands back to himself, letting them curl into fists.

“You are literally the worst thing that's ever happened to me,” Dipper announced, voice blunt and sharp. “I could have had a normal life, but  _ no.  _ I had to be stuck with you. To think I fell in love with  _ you. _ ” His voice rose and he stood, threading his hands through his hair and tugging sharply at the curls. Bill was quick to stand behind him, scrambling up and reaching for the omega. “Do  _ not  _ touch me,” Dipper hissed in an instant.

“Dipper, you can't expect me to know how to save the world that I just  _ destroyed, _ ” Bill argued, following the omega. Dipper was stomping off toward the hotel, shaking his head and muttering darkly to himself about how useless Bill was. “Where are you going?” Bill demanded. Dipper turned on his heel, nearly smacking directly into the pursuing alpha.

“One of us has to figure out how to clean this mess up,” Dipper snapped; an arm shot out to encircle him, dragging him so close and tight that he couldn't wriggle free. “Let me go.” Bill shook his head, burying his nose into Dipper's hair. His lips kissed the rounded, bouncy curls, then travelled down to press against the omega's birthmark. Dipper found himself unwillingly relaxing in the tight hold.

“We don't have to clean up  _ anything, _ ” Bill told him quietly. “Nobody knows that we did anything—besides that, who knows if there are any other people still alive? Who knows if it was  _ actually  _ my fault?” Dipper tried to push away from Bill, to no avail.

“It was your fault,” Dipper stated simply, with no remorse in his words. Bill frowned against the omega's forehead, but said nothing. “And yeah, we're the last people left on earth. Maybe, in a couple hours, we'll be dead too. But that's not the point, Bill. The point is that my  _ family  _ could be dead. People that I love are probably  _ dead  _ and you think that I'm just going to sit down and accept that?”

Tears were flowing freely now, almost unnoticed by Dipper. They slipped down his cheeks and splashed against Bill's clothed chest. The alpha was making some sort of soft cooing, rubbing his forehead against Dipper's and whispering softly, trying to quiet him.

“I love you, my sugar pine. I'm sorry,” Bill whispered, rocking back and forth. “I know and I'm sorry. I wish I knew more. I told you I didn't want this world for you, but I can't change what's happened. I wouldn't even know where to begin.”

They stood like that for a while; the normal sounds of the world were so quiet that the hum of the hotel's electricity was almost deafening. It was white noise. Dipper's breathing eventually calmed with the constant, soothing words from his alpha, despite his attempt to remain angry.

“What are we going to  _ do, _ ” Dipper muttered, rubbing his wet eyes against Bill's shirt. “We can't just accept this, Bill. We've got to figure out how this actually happened.” The alpha hushed him, loosening his grip so he could rub gently at Dipper's back, letting his fingers roll over the omega's shoulder blades.

“First things first, we should back to the hotel room,” Bill murmured soothingly. “I'm going to make up some shitty coffee, and grab us something to eat. You must be starving.” The alpha brushed Dipper's hair back once more, tangling his fingers in the knotted curls. “Then we can actually cobble together some sort of plan. Does that sound okay with you?” Dipper nodded, dragging his arm across his face, wiping away some of the snot there. 

“Where’d you get a second shirt?” Dipper asked, dotting at his eyes with his sleeves. Bill looked down at his shirt, then at the one that Dipper had on. He cracked a smile and pressed a kiss to the bridge of DIpper’s nose.

“I always keep a suitcase with extra clothes in the car.” Bill revealed. “Do you want to grab something while we’re down here? Maybe something more comfortable than my old shirt?” The alpha gently wiped away stray tears that Dipper hadn’t caught. Dipper shook his head. “Let’s grab you something else, just in case you change your mind.” 

“Why do you have extra clothes in the car?” 

“I don’t see the relevance of that question,” Bill replied, heading back toward the car. Dipper narrowed his eyes when the alpha had his back turned; Bill seemed all too comfortable—he seemed remorseful, yes. But Bill also didn’t seem incredibly bothered by the turn of events. 

In all fairness, however, Bill just  _ looked  _ suspicious as well. It could have been that.

“You don’t see the relevance in half the questions I ask,” Dipper reminded dryly, throat still strained from crying. “They just float in one ear and out the other.” Bill let out a quiet noise that sounded a lot like affirmation, and Dipper let out a disgusted sigh. “Do you even have your keys?”

“Keys?” Bill asked, hooking his hand in one of the door handles. It opened when he tugged, and Dipper’s lips pursed into a thin line. 

“Did you not lock the car door?” Dipper questioned incredulously. “ _ Seriously _ ? Why didn’t you lock the car? It could have been stolen.” Bill shrugged, leaning down and pressing the button beside the seat and popping the trunk.

“They’ve outstanding security here,” Bill replied, moving to open the trunk. “I’ve never had to lock my car door before. And if my car get stolen, then I have an entire car lot to chose from, don’t I?” he continued to ask. Dipper couldn’t exactly argue with that, and decided to simply stare at the alpha in disdain.

It didn’t take long for Bill to open the trunk, or the suitcase, and then gather a small pile of clothing into his arms. He hummed happily the entire time, letting his hands run over every article and smooth the wrinkles from them before hanging them over his arm. 

Dipper took the time to look around him, rocking on his heels. The sky’s main colour was a bloody red and glowed like a taillight in the fog; it mingled with a sickish yellow hue and a dark black that Dipper couldn’t fully separate from the sky around it.

There was no wind, and he couldn’t hear any animals. Normally, there would be some form of nocturnal birds—typically owls—and plenty of crickets and cicadas playing a symphony of wings snapping and sliding along each other. And there was certainly no traffic. No honking of horns, no sounds of tires screeching against asphalt. It was almost peaceful, in an unsettling, horror movie fashion. The emotion was even worse now that he was standing alone. 

“Bill, can you hurry up?” Dipper asked quietly, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. “Please?” The alpha straightened at the mild fear in Dipper’s voice; Bill slammed the trunk closed and was by Dipper’s side in a matter of seconds, instantly crowding him. Dipper accepted the kiss that Bill offered, relishing in the minor comfort. 

“Back inside, on with you,” Bill told him. There was an order hidden underneath his words, and it was one that Dipper was all too ready to follow. He scampered inside the best he could while staying close to Bill. Dipper  _ knew  _ that having an alpha was a bad idea. And yet—

Dipper looked over his shoulder at his alpha, the older man shuffling behind him and herding toward the hotel’s main doors. Bill’s jaw was tense and tight with nerves, binding him near-silent except for the occasional sound of breathing and uncertain grunts. Bill caught Dipper looking at him, and Bill gently placed a hand on Dipper’s back. 

“What’s wrong?” Bill asked quietly, pressing his palm between Dipper’s shoulders. Dipper sighed, shook his head, and then continued forward. Love was stupid.  _ Being  _ in love was stupid. And being in love with Bill, well. It had its unique challenges. “Sugar pine?”

“Everything, Bill,” Dipper told him, lips turning down into a frown. “Absolutely  _ everything. _ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta is EmberGlows!
> 
> Song that helped write this sequel:  
> On the Brightside by Never Shout Never
> 
> Want to stay updated? Click [here](http://everyday-im-preaching.tumblr.com/) to stay in the know!


	2. Jammed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! :D   
> Here's another chapter, just for you! If at some point in this chapter you find yourself enjoying it, please express your enjoyment in a comment below! Thank you very much :D

  
The hotel lobby was just as empty as Dipper had left it—not that he'd expected everyone to have come out of some secret hiding spot, or have returned from an ill-timed break—but he still had a long way to go before he could accept the fact that everyone had simply disappeared. Dipper paused, tuning his head to fully take in the room. There was something downright eerie about it.   


A series of crystal chandeliers hung high in the air above the room. Their lights were bright and  cheerful in the way that they reflected off the freshly shined coffee tables and kissed at the corners of armchairs. In the corner, Dipper could hear the rambling speech of a Baptist preacher, coming from a fair-sized television. The omega took a few steps toward it, tilting his head to the side and listening to the incomprehensible rant.   


“Dipper?” Bill murmured; Dipper jumped at the sound, not realising how close the alpha had gotten. “Are you okay?” Bill laid a hand on the omega's shoulder, massaging it gently. Dipper nodded, even as his brow furrowed. Bill followed his line of sight, lips pursing at the sight of the impassioned minister. “Something's off, isn't it?”   


“I… I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that this was turned to CNN when I came out to look for you,” Dipper muttered, stretching a hand out, now close enough to ghost his fingertips along the top of it. “I was passing by fairly quickly, though. It's possible I'm just imagining things.” The omega shook his head, then stepped away, pressing his back against Bill's chest. Bill let out a comforting purr, nuzzling Dipper's hair and kissing the top of his head.   


“It must have been terrifying for you,” Bill murmured. Dipper snorted, leaning back and letting Bill wrap an arm around him.    


“The scariest thing was you not taking your damn key with you,” Dipper said, letting the alpha's heat soak through his clothes, chasing the chill from his body. The arm around him tightened. “That and seeing you there, unmoving. I was afraid I'd lost you.” The omega lifted a hand and pressed his fingers to Bill's jaw.   


Bill didn't reply; there was a quiet shuffling behind Dipper, as if the alpha was looking for something.   


“Bill?” Dipper asked, petting at the smooth skin beneath his fingers. Lowering his voice, Dipper tried again. “Alpha?”    


This snapped Bill from whatever had him captive, and he nuzzled Dipper's hand and let out a soft trill. Kisses were placed to his fingers and palm; Bill mapped out the skin with his lips, pressing against every crease he found. Dipper let him do so. If it helped the alpha relax, he could do it.    


“Let's get back to our room,” Bill murmured, pulling Dipper away from the television. Dipper rolled his eyes, but led the alpha lead him back to the room, keeping an arm wrapped around him the entire time. He'd occasionally lean down to nuzzle Dipper's hair, or press a kiss to his forehead.    
  


As soon as they reached their floor, Bill stiffened, arms wrapping around Dipper. Dipper looked up at him quizzically—Bill let out a low, threatening growl and took a single step forward, doing his best to keep his limbs wrapped around Dipper.    


“I don't like the way this looks,” Bill muttered, looking at the hallway with skeptical eyes—the red light that had folded itself over the area was genuinely unsettling, Dipper had to agree. But he wasn't sure why Bill felt the need to protect him from coloured lighting, of all things.    


“At least the lights are still on?” Dipper tried; it came out more like a question than anything else, and Bill pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Where do you think that light's coming from anyway?”   


“Somewhere that we shouldn't go. Somewhere that we're not going,” Bill told Dipper, lips barely moving as he did so. “I don't want anything to do with that.”   


“Well, no, I don't want anything to do with it, either. But you're forgetting the rules of a horror movie—” Dipper began, but was cut off by a low growl from Bill.   


“—We aren't in a horror movie—” Bill bickered.   


“—Says you,” Dipper huffed. He jabbed a finger at Bill's jaw, poking it sharply and getting a hiss.  “If we want to change things, we're going to have to find out what that red light is all about.” Bill groaned, loud and exaggerated, before burying his face in Dipper's hair.   


“But I don't want to,” Bill whined, cautiously leading Dipper back to the room. He never let his hands leave the omega, keeping him tightly wrapped in the long arms. “It's probably nothing, anyway.” Dipper stopped, refusing to let the alpha bully him further toward their room. He took a second to compose himself, then turned his head slowly so he could look at Bill out of the corner of his eye.    


“The red light that is sweeping over the city and covering everything in shades of red is nothing.” Dipper kept his voice painfully blunt, even going so far as to nod at the window at the end of the hallway. “Look me in the face and tell me it's nothing. Please.”    


Bill cringed, fingers curling into fists where they lay on Dipper, dragging the fabric of his shirt along with them.    


“Dipper, you are far too curious for your own good,” Bill murmured, pressing his lips to Dipper's temple. “Whatever secrets that light may hold are secrets that neither of us need to know. It's probably just for aesthetic.” Dipper opened his mouth to say something—to call him out about simply being a coward. And then he felt how tense Bill was; the way his body shook slightly as they moved. Bill hid it well, but he was actually scared. Dipper felt his accusation die in his throat.   


“Bill, it's going to be okay,” Dipper soothed, wishing he could kiss the alpha.   


“Should I be telling you that?” Bill questioned, chuckling playfully as he did so.   
  
  


The suite, just like the lobby, was exactly the way Dipper had left it. A _mess_.    


“You should go shower and change into something clean,” Bill told him as he fiddled with the coffee pot. Dipper stood to the side of the bed, looking at the clothing that Bill had pulled from his suitcase—they were definitely Dipper's size, but were soft and ill-fit for the apocalypse—better yet, they were more suited for the typical, stay-at-home omega. Just like the ones the alpha had packed in the suitcase.    


Bill walked into the bedroom, noting two things simultaneously: the look of disgust on Dipper's face, and the open suitcase that he'd hauled up from their car earlier. It was lying open, clothes tossed to every corner of the plastic box.    


“What's wrong?” Bill asked, blinking at him in confusion. Dipper took a deep breath, then shook his head. He knelt down to pick at the clothing in the suitcase. Bill crossed his arms over his chest. “Dipper.”   


“Did you even try to pack any of my clothes?” Dipper asked, holding up a sweater that he was particularly unhappy with. “It's pastel. And flimsier than all hell.” He shook it at Bill, who seemed unimpressed. The sweater was striped in various, muted colours against a tan background.    


“It's cute. You'd look cute in it,” Bill told him, cocking an eyebrow. “I couldn't have expected this, Dipper. I didn't plan to accidentally start the apocalypse on my birthday.” Dipper rolled his eyes and tossed the sweater back in the suitcase.    


Bill let out an almost imperceptible sigh. Uncrossing his arms, he walked over to Dipper and knelt down beside him. With a soft, questioning trill, he cupped Dipper's jaw and stroked his thumb across the omega's cheek. He turned the younger man's face to look into his, and Dipper could see the realisation filling Bill's eyes.   


“I know what you're thinking,” Bill murmured quietly. Dipper shook his head, raising a hand to place it over Bill's.   


“Even if you did, it doesn't matter. We have other things to worry about,” Dipper told him, stroking that back of Bill's hand. “We'll have to go by the Mystery Shack at some time, I guess. I'll pick up some actual clothes then.” Bill paused, scrutinising every inch of Dipper's face, looking for any sort of malcontent.   


“I am not trying to change you,” Bill told the omega, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of Dipper's mouth. “I love you the way you are. I always have, and I always will.”   


“I told you, we don't need to worry about it right now,” Dipper murmured; even if he was willing to put it off, he still appreciated the statement. “Thank you, though.” He gave the alpha a weak smile, and Bill let out a soft trill. Bill released his jaw so he could push some of the curls from Dipper's forehead, smiling at the constellation beneath.     


“My little constellation,” Bill purred. “I have half a mind to shower with you.” He pressed a kiss to Dipper's birthmark. Dipper smacked his chest and pulled away from the alpha with a frown.    


“It's literally the end of the world and you're thinking about sex?” Dipper asked, gathering the outfit that Bill had plucked from the car's trunk. Bill let out a soft whine, hands reaching out, trying to grab at the omega.    


“It's not my fault—you're so cute, I just want to gobble you up,” Bill told him wistfully; he didn't follow Dipper, but he stared at him, a loving, hungry look in his eye. “But you're right, the world is ending and all that nonsense.”    


Dipper couldn't help but laugh incredulously.   


“You aren't taking this serious, are you?” Dipper asked, shaking his head.   


“You take everything serious enough for the both of us, if I'm honest.” Bill shrugged as he spoke, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I'm going to go see if there's anything worth eating in the mini-fridge.” He looked Dipper up and down, then nodded toward the bathroom. “Shower.”   


“I showered before I went to bed,” Dipper argued, but Bill didn't seem to hear him as he sauntered off to the kitchen as if everything were normal. “I'm not going to shower,” the omega called after him, stripping Bill's shirt off and tossing it on the bed. The faint ache of the alpha's unintentional order tugged at him, but he jerked his head up and pulled the long-sleeved polo of his head.    


Dipper heard the sound of the fridge opening—then paused.   


“Bill, did you turn the TV on?” Dipper asked, unbuttoning his slacks and shoving them off. The alpha let out a confused hum from the other room. Peeking back in, he let out a low whistle at the half-dressed omega. He then turned his head to the flat screen that had gone unnoticed on the other side of the room.    


“I didn't, no. Is that the same program as before?” Bill asked, walking so that he stood beside Dipper. One of his hands ghosted over to snap the waistband of Dipper's boxers; Dipper rolled his eyes and swatted the hand away, only for it to return in a gentle caress of the omega's ass.    


“I think so. Preacher looks familiar,” Dipper responded, looking around for the remote and trying not to panic. It was nothing. Sometimes TVs just turned themselves on. Right? “I didn't turn it on,” the omega continued, looking at the pair of dress pants in his hands.    


Bill moved his hand from Dipper's ass to his hip, tugging him close. His chest rumbled in a comfortable purr, mollifying Dipper's fear with ease. He playfully ducked his head down to kiss and nip at Dipper's mate mark, nuzzling it possessively.    


Dipper praised his genetics, and how he had some sort of switch that Bill could activate—some sort of special ability to soothe him without trying. It allowed him to turn back to his rational thoughts. It gave himself something to ground himself with.    


It almost worked.   


The preacher was suddenly cut off, the signal jamming and sending a shrieking staccato of audio through the room. The word ‘hell’ was spoken in a shout, tripping over itself and Dipper recoiled from it. Bill stepped between him and the television, baring his fangs like it was an enemy—the protective gesture was silly, but in an endearing way.    


A series of long and short beeps erupted from the TV, breaking the obnoxious preacher's stuttering, repeating voice. Dipper and Bill simply stared at the television for a moment—listening to the patterned beeps stop—and then start up again. After a second, Bill dove for the movie guide and pen on the bedside table, furiously scribbling something down on it.    


“Bill?” Dipper asked, listening to the noise. It sounded almost like someone was sending them a message in—   


“—Morse code,” Bill responded, squinting his eyes and leaning close to the television as he continued to scribble. The coded message rolled out of the speakers once more, and Dipper watched in fascination as Bill chewed on the end of the pen in his hand, checking his work over. The sound of the preacher's now furious rant spilled over into the room and Dipper grabbed the controller, firmly pressing the power down and shutting it off.   


Stepping closer to Bill, Dipper tilted his head to the side. He'd studied a bit of Morse code a few summers ago, but had quickly evolved into more complicated puzzles. Noticing the omega's attention, Bill held it up for him to see.    


“Want to take a crack at it?” Bill asked, placing his pen down and stepping out of the way. Dipper eyed him for a second, and then stepped up to the end table. He hunched low over it, eyes flicking up to Bill. “Why are you looking at me like that?”    


“Do you even know where that pen's been?” Dipper asked. Bill opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it. “Bet someone else chewed on it before you.”    


“I'm going to go brush my teeth,” Bill announced, looking thoroughly grossed out at his own action. Dipper chuckled, then took a good look at the code that the alpha had scribbled down.

..--- ....- -.... ---.. / .-. . -.. .-. ..- -- / .-. -.. / --. .-. .- ...- .. - -.-- / ..-. .- .-.. .-.. ... --..-- / --- .-. / -....- .-..

  
“Oh boy,” Dipper murmured, squinting at the tiny handwriting. Taking it over to the desk with him, he took a seat and pulled the hotel provided notepad from the top drawer. “This is going to be exciting.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta is EmberGlows! :D
> 
> Song for this chapter:  
> No Money by Galantis
> 
> Want to stay updated? Click [here](http://everyday-im-preaching.tumblr.com/) to stay in the know!


	3. Bamboleo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for visiting.   
> I am so sick guys. Like, spent an entire day in bed napping sick. I'm surprised I wrote anything at all.  
> As always, please leave a comment below if you enjoyed!

  
  
  


After Bill had brushed his teeth, he'd pressed a kiss to Dipper's temple; then he'd murmured something about finding food again, leaving Dipper to mess with the code that the television had spat out. It wasn't a hard code, by any means, but Dipper hadn't used Morse code in  _ years.  _ And he couldn't just plug it into some translator online—wi-fi, data—it was all useless. And upon trying to dial his sister's number, all he received was a busy signal.

“2468 Redrum Rd, Gravity Falls, Oregon,” Dipper murmured aloud. The letter 'l' had been attached to the end of it, like a signature. The omega ran a hand through his hair, catching it on a particularly nasty knot. He winced, then slowly worked it from his hair. Brushing his hair later would be a challenge in of itself.

“Darling, I'm going to be right back—I heard something odd in the hallway,” Bill announced from the kitchen, followed by the soft sound of metal hitting the stove.

Dipper was up and out of his chair in an instant; he beat Bill to the door, standing in the alpha's way. He braced his hands and feet against the doorframe, staring Bill down. Bill cocked an eyebrow, and gently tugged at one of Dipper's arms.

“No,” Dipper argued, refusing to move. “Are you crazy? You're not going to take a single step into that hallway.  _ Especially  _ since you heard something weird.”

“Don't be silly,” Bill teased, brushing Dipper's curls from his face, taking a moment to play with them. “I can take care of myself, sugar pine.” He pinched Dipper's chin, but the omega shook the hand free.

“I never said you couldn't. But I'm not going to risk you walking into the hallway all alone, and subsequently leaving me behind to deal with whatever weird, apocalyptic monster decides to have you for breakfast.”

Bill let out a soft laugh, crowding Dipper and wrapping an arm around the omega's waist. The alpha pressed a gentle kiss to Dipper's lips, letting out a gentle trill as he did so. Dipper scowled, and then kissed Bill back, all whilst remaining in the doorway.

“Sugar pine, you can't stay in this doorway forever,” Bill murmured, running his hand up Dipper's back, pushing the omega's sweater up and letting his fingers wander along the pale skin. “I'm only going to pop out for a second, you know. You can even watch me.”

“No.”

“Dipper,” Bill whined, nuzzling the omega's cheek. “What if it's another person? Let me go.”

Dipper shook his head. “Over my dead body. We aren't opening this door until we have a plan.”

“Why are you so stubborn?” Bill muttered, kissing at Dipper's jaw. Dipper jerked his head away and levelled a glare at his alpha.

“I'm not being  _ stubborn.  _ I'm trying to make sure the both of us  _ survive.  _ Running blindly into danger never ends well,” Dipper told the older man; he wouldn't be moved on this issue, despite Bill's attempt to get him to move. “Bill, please. Don't go out there until we know what's going on.  _ Please. _ Who's going to protect me if something happens to you?”

Bill let out a soft, conceding whimper. After a brief kiss to Dipper's pulse point, he pulled away. Bill's fingers slid under Dipper's jaw and tilted it up so he could look the omega in the eye.

“Come eat,” Bill murmured, stroking Dipper's cheek with his thumb. “Have you translated that message yet?”

Dipper nodded, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Bill. It was less out of affection than to ensure that Bill didn't run off. Bill let out a playful purr and returned the hug, nuzzling Dipper's curls before leading him to the kitchen.

Dipper let Bill sit him down at the kitchen bar, and even giggled when Bill mussed his hair.

“Now, there wasn't a lot in here that could be considered food, but I did my best,” Bill told Dipper, sliding a cup of coffee over to him. Steam rose from the cup, dancing its way along the wide rim of the mug before dissipating into the air above it.

“Is this black?” Dipper questioned, lifting the cup to his mouth and taking a sip. He made a face as the bitter taste of coffee exploded on his tongue, before taking another drink. “Definitely black.”

“I thought that's how you liked it?” Bill asked, eye wide and confused. When he spoke again, he sounded genuinely distraught. “Do you want any cream or sugar? There is some over here—”

“—It's okay, Bill,” Dipper told him, shaking his head. “I promise.”

The alpha looked at Dipper for a moment, brow furrowed in concern.

“Your face is going to get stuck like that, you know,” Dipper teased. “Remember. I'm supposed to be serious enough for the both of us.”

Bill frowned and grabbed a set of plates he'd set beside the stove. He brought them over and sat them on the bar, nudging one in front of Dipper. Dipper found himself impressed at the meal that Bill had put together—a generous amount of sliced fruit, a bowl of oatmeal, and some bagels smothered in cream cheese—Dipper looked over at Bill's plate, checking to make sure the alpha was eating enough. In a glance, it looked like he was, at least.

“You shouldn't have to be serious enough for the both of us,” Bill murmured quietly, grabbing a stool from the corner so he could sit across from his omega.

Dipper reached across the table and laid a hand over Bill's, offering him a smile. Bill squeezed the omega's hand, curling his fingers around Dipper's tightly. Dipper could  _ smell  _ how stressed Bill was, and could nearly hear how erratic his heartbeat was. The alpha was panicking.

“It's… I've always thought myself a rational person, but here I am trying to investigate strange noises in darkened hallways,” Bill told Dipper with a sigh. “And I'm just so anxious—I feel like I need to do something one moment, and the next I never want to do  _ anything.  _ What if something happens?”

“Then something happens, I guess.”

Bill looked at Dipper, voice deadpan as he spoke. “I meant something  _ bad. _ ”

“Nothing bad is going to happen as long as we avoid horror movie cliches,” Dipper told the alpha, picking up a bagel and tearing a piece off to stuff into his mouth. “Thank you for being honest with me, Bill. I know that's hard for you.”

“Well, there's no time like the apocalypse to tell the truth,” Bill replied, fiddling with Dipper's fingers. “Speaking… Of the truth. Dipper, please. Don't be mad at me. I..”

Dipper put down his bagel so he could hold up a hand, cutting Bill off.

“If you're about to tell me that you lied about something else, I really,  _ really  _ don't want to hear it,” Dipper told Bill, keeping his eyes focused on the counter. “I know I just thanked you for being honest with me. And I really do appreciate it. But… Unless it deals with the current situation, I'd rather you not bring it up.”

“Are you sure?” Bill asked quietly, rubbing his thumb along Dipper's.

Dipper nodded.

“Yes. I just can't handle that right now.” Dipper kicked his feet against the wall of the bar, then looked up at Bill with a crooked smile. “I know, me, unable to handle something? With how calm and collected I am? With my sobbing and crying? Preposterous.”

“You're silly,” Bill teased, matching Dipper's smile. “I love you.”

“I know you do,” Dipper replied, watching Bill's expression fall. He rolled his eyes. “I love you, too. No need to pout.”

“But if I don't pout, then how will you remember how cute I am?” Bill argued. “What did the message translate to?”

“An address, I think,” Dipper said; Bill began to pick at his fruit, popping piece after piece into his mouth and letting out a series of pleased noises as he did so. Dipper couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head. He quickly rattled off the address to Bill, who furrowed his brow once more.

“I don't recognise it,” Bill muttered, chewing on the corner of a bagel. “Well, that's not exactly true. I recognise it, but… Not where, or  _ what  _ it is. I suppose if you live in Gravity Falls long enough, every road name sounds familiar.”

“Would you know how to find it?” Dipper asked, abandoning his bagel to take a bite of his oatmeal. “I imagine we're heading up that way anyway. It's our only clue.”

“You wouldn't let me go into the hallway, but taking a roadtrip to a random address is a good idea?” Bill asked cynically, eyeing Dipper with a cocked brow. Dipper flapped a hand at him.

“We can prepare for this. And we'll be together. Plus, it's a plan. Do you have a better one that doesn't involve you running off by yourself?” Dipper asked, feeling the plastic of his spoon clack against his teeth.

“Frankly, no. If you hadn't suggested chasing after the address, I probably would have,” Bill admitted. “I do think we should wait until light though—perhaps get a few hours of sleep?”

“Well, that's not all. There was the address, and then there was some sort of signature or something after it. I mean, I think it was a signature—it was just the letter 'L.'” Dipper scratched at his cheek. He'd thought that it could have been Lana who sent the message, but in the current situation, it could have been anyone. “It's possible the sender got cut off as well—”

“—It's Lana. It has to be,” Bill interrupted, getting to his feet. “If anyone's survived this mess, it'd have to be her.”

“Hey, don't jump to conclusions. And finish your food,” Dipper told Bill, grabbing his arm; Dipper was pulled from his seat, and would have fallen onto the floor if Bill hadn't caught him. Dipper caught his breath before tugging on Bill's shirt. “It could be anyone, Bill. Lana isn't the only one in town whose name begins with an L.”

“But it's  _ probably  _ her. Most likely her—I can feel it, Dipper. It has to be her.”

“Bill, for the love of  _ God.  _ Stop right this instant,” Dipper ordered, locking his knees.

Bill froze in his step, looking down at his omega. “Sugar pine,  _ please _ — _ ” _

“You aren't going to do anyone any good if you don't eat,” Dipper lectured, tugging him back toward the table. “And then, we're going to get some sleep. Like you suggested.”

“But Dipper—”

“—No. Sit down.” Dipper pushed him back toward his chair. “No complaints. After all, why would Lana send out an S.O.S. from a location you don't know?”

“Maybe she just wants to be found—” Bill cut himself off, expression becoming puzzled once again. “—Now that I think about it, that's very unlike her. I’ve never known her to send out this sort of message before. It’s rather simple for her. Perhaps it’s not an address at all—maybe it’s some sort of coded...” Bill’s sentence died on his lips when he saw Dipper’s face.

“Have you ever heard of Occam’s Razor?” Dipper asked dryly, gaze unwavering. BIll scratched his ear, unable to look Dipper in the eye.

“Ah, yes. I think so. Maybe once?” Bill agreed. 

“So, what does that mean?” Dipper asked, taking his seat back at the bar. The seat creaked into the empty apartment.

“It’s an address?” Bill tried, fiddling with his spoon.

“It’s an address.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta is EmberGlows!
> 
> Song for this chapter:  
> I Don't Wanna Know (English Cover) by Jubyphonic
> 
> Want to stay updated? Click [here](http://everyday-im-preaching.tumblr.com/) to stay in the know!


	4. Elevate Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI there guys, look what I have for you!
> 
> As always, please leave a comment below if you liked this chapter! Please and thank you--comments help motivate me into working on projects like this (big, dramatic, etc.,) and it would mean the world to me if you told me what you thought!  
>  **Quick reminder--the titles are very important in this series.**

 

 

The next morning, Bill insisted that he do one more walk of the hotel before they left it. Dipper was put in charge of packing the bags, and thought to argue when Bill suggested it—but then something deep in his stomach turned, and a shiver ran down his back. It wasn’t fear, but an astute and sudden knowledge that there was no one else alive in the hotel. He thought to argue with that too, but Bill was already gone.

So, instead, Dipper sat in front of their open suitcases. There was an intense amount of focus as he folded, re-folded, and rearranged all of the items inside. If he let his mind wander, the fear that was creeping through him would encompass him and not let him go. And Dipper didn’t feel like he had time for a panic attack in the middle of the apocalypse.

“All clear, darling.” Bill’s voice came from the doorway, soft and uncertain.

Dipper turned his head up and toward the alpha, focusing on the sound of his footsteps and slight pinch of his face. He zipped the bags up, rolling his lips between his teeth. He was uncertain of what to say. Dipper didn’t think he knew the words to describe what he was feeling.

Bill closed the space between them, kneeling beside his mate. “Sugar pine, everything is going to be fine.”

“I…” Dipper bit his cheek, and then shook his head. “After you left, I went over to the window. I looked out over that pompous lake they have, over the cars…” He furrowed his brow, and then turned his head toward Bill. “Without the panic, without the adrenaline—the world out there seems so quiet. And  _ empty.  _ It’s disconcerting.”

A warm, gloved hand smoothed its way across Dipper’s shoulders, and deft fingers brushed unshed tears from his eyes. Dipper jolted upward, unaware that he was crying. Bill had him in his arms in seconds, kissing at the top of his head and rubbing his cheeks against the mussed, brown locks.

“It’s going to be okay,” Bill promised. “We’re going to be fine. Even if most of the world has disappeared into… God knows. I am going to protect and take care of you.” 

Dipper buried his head against Bill’s shoulder, wondering where this newfound fear and dependency had come from. “I know. I just—” His words bubbled as freely as his tears. “I don’t know what to do. This never happens.”

“Well, no, the world doesn’t end every other year,” Bill teased, and he got a gentle smack on the arm for it. He chuckled, leaning his chin down further so he could kiss at Dipper’s forehead. “But don’t worry. Just hold for me until we get somewhere stable, alright?”

Dipper nodded, pulling back from his alpha and wiping his own tears away. 

“This isn’t… Sorry. This isn’t normal,” Dipper told Bill, shakily going to stand. Bill went to help, cooing at him gently and pulling him up.

“I’ve lived with you long enough to know that,” Bill said confidently, brushing his hair from his face. “Your hair is getting long—” He brushed it back, revealing the omega’s birthmark. “—We’ll have to trim it here soon, or it’ll be falling into your eyes.”

“There are about ten thousand other things to worry about,” Dipper told BIll; he pouted and let his hands wander down Dipper’s face, cupping it and squeezing already full cheeks to make Dipper’s lips fold out.

He turned his head this way and that, and then shook his head.  “If there was ever a time to look good, it’d be the end of the world,” Bill said, once again pushing back bangs. “Not that you don’t look utterly stunning twenty-four/seven, sugar pine. But it’s also hard to see if you let your bangs overgrow your eyes.”

Dipper batted his hands away, and then laughed when Bill tried to kiss him. 

“Get on. We have to go,” Dipper told him, holding still as lips found his cheek.

“We do. But you should eat something more before we go,” Bill said. 

Dipper rolled his eyes, going to pick up one of the suitcases. “I ate the same amount that you did this morning.” He popped the handle out, slipping his hands into the premeditated grooves. “I’ll eat again when I get hungry.”

“You’re  _ never  _ hungry,” Bill huffed, grabbing the other. “How am I supposed to be overbearing if you don’t let me?”

Dipper shrugged.

“I guess your dream of smothering me is just going to have to die,” Dipper told him, rolling the luggage out the door with him. “Is it safe to take the elevator?”

Bill nodded. “Yes, it should be. I inspected them earlier, and they all seem to be functioning.” Upon his approval, Dipper pressed the down arrow firmly, watching as it lit up beneath his finger. 

They waited in companionable silence, listening to the elevator as it was pulled to the top floor of the hotel. Dipper let his eyes flicker over to Bill, and then back to the closed doors in front of him.

“What do you think happened to everyone?” Dipper asked, tightening his grip on the handle of the suitcase.

Bill let out a soft hum, tapping his fingers against his thigh. “Vaporised.”

Dipper opened his mouth to snap at him about how impossible that would be—and then stopped himself. He was letting his emotions get in the way of rational thought. All in all, it wasn’t a terrible theory. It wasn’t as if they’d all scampered off by themselves in the middle of the night.

A small turn of his head had his eyes lining up with the window at the end of the hall. What he hadn’t told Bill about outside was how unsettlingly bright everything seemed. The sky seemed a bit too blue, and the clouds resembled large swatches of white marshmallow fluff. It had almost hurt his eyes at first, in contrast to the red sky of the night before. 

“Vaporised, huh?” Dipper muttered. “I suppose it makes just as much sense as an alien abduction.”

“I hadn’t even thought of aliens,” Bill stated, sounding  _ far  _ too excited. “That would be something else, wouldn’t it?”

“And not your fault, which is the only reason you’re entertaining the idea of it,” Dipper accused, brows furrowing. “This elevator sure is taking a long time, isn’t it?”

“I never said it wasn’t my fault,” Bill told Dipper, voice far more dry than playful.

Dipper turned his head toward Bill, cocking an eyebrow. “I’ll believe that you ended the world before I believe that you summoned aliens to do it for you.” He heard the elevator door ding, and went to turn his head toward it.

Before Dipper could look, however, Bill yanked him away. He pressed Dipper’s face into his shoulder, holding him tightly and swearing loudly. Dipper struggled against the tight hold, but couldn’t break it.

“We’re taking the stairs,” Bill muttered, low and in the back of his throat.

Dipper wiggled and writhed, but Bill’s grip was iron. He was about to ask what the  _ hell  _ Bill was on about, when the smell hit him. It was putrid, like spoiled fruit or soda you left out for too long—whatever breakfast he had in his stomach seemed to curdle instantly.

“Bill, answer a question for me,” Dipper said, each syllable dropping like a stone, adding to the growing nausea in his stomach. Bill hushed him, and Dipper squeaked as he was turned and then hauled up into the alpha’s arms.

Dipper’s breath left him and he clawed at Bill’s chest, trying to jerk himself up and over Bill’s shoulder so he could look at whatever had Bill running scared. Bill hissed, and then  _ growled  _ at him. It was a wordless command that had Dipper ragdolling in Bill’s arms, fingers only loosely clinging now. The noise was more powerful than any word or order that Bill had uttered.

“Bill, was there a dead body in that elevator?” Dipper asked; he braced himself as Bill shoved through the door to the nearby stairwell. He noted that the alpha hadn’t grabbed either suitcase in his hurry.

“Doesn’t matter,” Bill huffed, shifting Dipper to one arm so he could grab the railing on the stairs and pound down them like a madman. “If everyone is gone, we can just borrow some clothing from a Valentino or Armani store.”

Dipper pressed his lips into a thin line. “One, no. That won’t hold up—” He cut himself off with a hiccup as they rounded a corner. “—Slow  _ down  _ and answer my question.”

“I would rather not slow down,” Bill admitted. “Furthermore, I’ll answer your question when we’re safe. You can wait that long, can’t you?”

There was a banging at the top of the stairs and Bill inhaled sharply; Dipper let out a quiet squeak, suddenly approving of the quick pace. “What’s that?” he demanded, eyes widening.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Bill replied in a puff, rounding yet another corner—he shouldered open the door to the next floor, looking around with narrowed, uncertain eyes. Across from them was another set of elevators. On the right, the doors were pried open, but the left remained shut.

“That might be why the elevator was taking so long,” Dipper muttered, voice small and holed up in the back of his throat. “Bill, we—”

Dipper was deposited on the floor, wobbling slightly. Bill marched back over to the staircase and shoved down the latch, locking the door in place. “Press the down button for the other elevator,” he ordered, turning his head this way and that.

The button was pressed before Bill could finish his sentence. Dipper turned his head to better inspect the other elevator whilst waiting—it didn’t look as if anything particularly large or inhuman had clawed its way inside. It looked more like the fire department had saved a citizen or two, and then never closed the doors.

Turning his head toward the floor, he noticed that parts of the carpet were stained dark. He nodded to himself, and then pressed the elevator button again, watching as Bill dragged an end table over to brace against the door. The fake flowers and vase toppled to the floor carelessly, making a dull thud where they hit the carpet.

Noticing Dipper staring, Bill turned toward him. And then  _ sprinted  _ at him, gathering him in his arms once more. This time it was just to kiss at his cheeks and then across the bridge of his nose.

“Were they dead bodies?” Dipper asked, voice mildly muffled as lips descended upon his mouth. Bill paused, but didn’t reply. Dipper poked him in the chest. “You know, we could have still used that elevator.”

Bill pulled away, looking at Dipper incredulously.

Dipper cocked an eyebrow at him. “Afraid to step in some blood?” he asked, just as the elevator doors slid open. Bill tugged him forward, into the shining, open space. A soft mix of piano and saxophone spilled out of the elevator, and Bill wasted no time in shoving Dipper inside.

The alpha had barely made it into the elevator when there was a thud on the now latched and blocked fire exit door—Bill pressed the button for the ground floor with an impatient hurried stabbing, putting himself between Dipper and the entryway. In that moment, Bill resembled a wolf, his hackles raised and teeth bared at a threat that Dipper couldn’t see through the bullet-proof mesh that looked into the stairwell.

The door rattled and shook, and then disappeared from Dipper’s view as the doors closed in front of him. It was only then that Dipper realised that he’d backed himself into the corner of the elevator, partially cowering. There was a quick, tense silence between Dipper and Bill, and then Bill turned his head toward the omega, giving him a weak smile.

“Such tasteless music for such a tense situation, isn’t it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Welcome to the end of the chapter!
> 
> My beta is the lovely Emberglows!
> 
> Song for this chapter:  
> Ready, Set, Don't Go by Billy Ray Cyrus
> 
> Want to stay updated? Click [here](http://everyday-im-preaching.tumblr.com/) to stay in the know!


	5. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! And if you do, I'd love to hear from you below! (I always respond to comments!)

 

“I don’t know,” Dipper muttered, crossing his arms across his chest in a self-hug. “I’m kind of fond of  _ Smooth In The Night. _ ”

Bill looked back at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Smooth in the night?” he questioned, standing up to his full height. His eyes ran over Dipper’s shaking form, frowning.

Dipper pointed upward. “The song. That’s the name of it,” he replied, eyes flicking up to meet Bill’s.

Bill’s eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“I didn’t know you listened to jazz,” he teased, stepping closer to Dipper; he cautiously tugged at Dipper’s arms, trying to pull them apart. When they came free, Bill gathered Dipper into a warm hug, holding him close. “You smell so nice.”

Dipper nodded against Bill’s collarbone— _ comfort _ —Bill needed comfort as much as he did. Not to mention the overwhelming scent that was  _ Bill  _ was wonderful for his nerves. “You smell good, too,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around Bill’s back.

Bill began to rub his cheeks across Dipper’s, scenting him and letting out small, bubbled purrs as he did so. Dipper laughed at him, taking a step back, just to see Bill’s face fold into despair. Dipper sighed and moved close once again, letting Bill continue with what he was doing.

“We’re going to be okay,” Dipper told him softly, and Bill nodded in agreement.

“Naturally.”

After a few moments, Bill pulled away, mussing Dipper’s hair. “I love you so much.”

“I…” The words got caught in Dipper’s throat, and he looked away. “I need to know what was in the elevator, Bill.” 

_ “No,” _ Bill snapped, taking a step back. “No. You don’t. And I won’t tell you.” He cupped Dipper’s face, running a thumb roughly across it. “You don’t want to. It’s not necessary.” 

Dipper let out a soft, annoyed groan—and then ducked away from Bill, smacking his hand against the emergency shut off button. He wiggled up close to it, staring Bill down. Bill narrowed his eyes, marching over to where Dipper was—he grabbed Dipper by the arm, tugging him out and away from the buttons, pulling him to the centre of the elevator.

“You’re asking too many questions,” Bill told him, staring him down. “I am going to protect you. But you have to let me.”

“You aren’t protecting me. You’re bullying me because you want to keep a secret,” Dipper muttered.

Bill let out a disgusted noise, shaking his head. He didn’t say anything more, not even when the elevator doors slid open to the lobby; it was just as empty and untouched as before, so Dipper assumed that whatever chased them down the fire stairs originated from somewhere upstairs.

“Bill,  _ wait _ —” Dipper squawked as he was hauled back into Bill’s arms. “—Put me down this instant.” Bill didn’t listen, jogging across the lobby and toward the door without pause. Dipper clutched at his shirt, holding on in fear of being dropped. “I have legs.”

Bill hushed him. He only put him down when they reached the car. He waited until Dipper was in the car and buckled before getting in himself. There was a screech of rubber against concrete as they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the empty road. Dipper clutched at the door and dug his heels against the mat beneath his feet.

“If we survived doomsday and then die because you’re driving like a maniac, I am going to be so pissed,” Dipper hissed, clawing at the door as the tail end of the car swung out behind them.

“We’re going to be fine,” Bill told him through clenched teeth; his fingers went to fiddle with the radio on instinct, getting static in response. He flicked through a couple presets, and then tried the dial again. Bill’s eyes landed on Dipper, and then is shoulders relaxed, falling an inch or so from where they’d hiked up around his ears.

He cleared his throat. “Can you get me the CD case from underneath your seat?” he asked pleasantly enough. Dipper did as he was asked, pulling out the thick leather case. “Pick out something you might like, hm? I’m sure I have something in there you’ll like.”

“Uh-huh,” Dipper agreed, unzipping it. “I don’t know, old man. I just hope I don’t find Jesus’ mixtape in here.”

A snort left Bill, and he shook his head. “Very funny,” he murmured, the car smoothing out under the control of his now steady hands. “You’re very funny.”

“It’s your fault, grandpa,” Dipper continued to joke, flipping through the CDs. He suddenly froze, staring at the case, and then at Bill. “You have every Evanescence CD in here. All of them. Including the new one.”

Bill shrugged. “We don’t deserve Amy Lee,” he told Dipper.

“I can’t believe my parents sold me to you. This is ridiculous.” He pointed at the discs, trying not to laugh. “This has to be grounds for divorce.”

A playful growl rumbled from Bill, and he reached over to grab at Dipper’s hand. Dipper easily surrendered it, using his free one to skim through the rest.

“I swear to God, if I find Simple Plan in here, I’m jumping out of the car,” he warned. “Oh, hey. Didn’t peg you for a country fan.” He tugged a CD out—it was one of the discs they sold in the Top Fifty packs; it was littered with old country songs that Dipper knew by  _ heart. _

“I’m not,” Bill answered simply. “You tune the radio to the same country station when we get in the car together.” He took the disc from Dipper, feeding it into the CD player.

Dipper paused in whatever he was going to say next, looking at Bill. “You’re telling me you went out and bought this because I like country music?”

“Is that wrong?” Bill questioned, returning both of his hands to the wheel as the music started to filter into the car. “I have told you on multiple occasions that I want you to be happy.” Dipper brought Bill’s hand to his mouth and kissed at his fingers in thanks, and Bill let out a pleased, satiated sigh.

It wasn’t until they turned down a dirt road that Dipper spoke up again.

“Bill, this is the road to the Mystery Shack,” Dipper pointed out as rocks smacked against the underside of the car; Bill nodded in agreement, though he remained silent. “Why are we going to the Mystery Shack?”

“Two reasons,” Bill began. “One: we need a map of the area. Mystery Shack is bound to have one. Two?” His expression became concerned. “I want to check to see if Erin and Mabel are here—if there’s even the slightest chance that my cousin is still alive, then I’m not going to let it slip through my fingers.”

Dipper carefully laid on a hand on Bill’s arm. “What if whatever we find in the Mystery Shack… Well, what if it’s like whatever was in the hotel?” he asked, not wanting to cross off any possibilities.

Bill shivered at the very idea, and then placed a hand over Dipper’s. “Dipper—my darling sugar pine—what was in that hotel had never been human. I promise.” He squeezed Dipper’s hand, and then returned his own to the wheel.

On the outside, the Mystery Shack looked fine. Stan’s convertible was parked beside the house, looking freshly washed; the dent that had been on the hood as well as bumper was smoothed out, looking almost like new.  _ Well, as new as the Stanmobile can look,  _ Dipper mused as Bill parked the car.

Dipper went to open his door, but it locked before he could.

“Stay in the car,” Bill told Dipper sternly; Dipper rolled his eyes. “I’m going to go check out the Shack.”

Again, Dipper rolled his eyes. He opened the glove box, grabbing the pistol from inside. It took him all but a second to find the clip as well; he checked to make sure it was full before clicking it in place and chambered around with a simple slide of his palm.

“No. I’m going with you,” Dipper refused, going to grab at the door again.

Bill was unclipped from his seatbelt and across the console before Dipper could get out, grabbing the gun from his hand and tugging him back into the seat. The look of fear on Bill’s face was almost comical as he tossed the gun into the driver’s seat.

“There was a class,” Dipper offered before Bill could ask.

“You are going to stay right here,” Bill told him, shaking his head. He pointed at the car between them. “Stay put. And don’t… don’t play with guns,” he muttered, grabbing the gun from beneath him before settling back in his seat. Bill turned to look at Dipper again. “There was a class?”

“Yeah—you have to pass a gun safety class to own a gun.”

“You can legally own a gun?” Bill asked, brow furrowing in confusion. “You  _ own  _ a gun?”

Dipper huffed loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. “This isn’t the 1900s. Yeah, I can own a gun. I used to own one. Legally. Concealed carry, too.” He looked away from Bill—the man was progressive in most cases, so Dipper hadn’t lent a thought to his opinion on omegas with guns. “Stan insisted I learn on one of my summer’s up here—I mean I learned how to use a pistol for self-defence at his behest—but I also know how to use a hunting rifle. The deer up here don’t have a lot of natural predators.”

“You go  _ hunting _ ?” Bill sounded absolutely scandalised. He cleared his throat and straightened. His next words were almost cautious, but respectful. “Hunting appeals to you?”

“Oh my God, just get out of the car. We can discuss your sexist views on guns later.”

Bill shook his head but reached for the door handle anyway. “I am not sexist.”

“Out of the car,” Dipper ordered, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Bill proceeded to do so, grumbling something along the lines of armed omegas scaring the crap out of him. Dipper cracked an eye open when the door shut behind him.

The alpha looked back once or twice before walking up to the door, and Dipper popped open the console; to no surprise of his, there was yet  _ another  _ gun stashed underneath a couple sheets of paper, already loaded.

“Where are all these guns coming from?” Dipper muttered, pulling it from its home. Tilting it, he noticed that the serial number was filed off. Dipper let out an uncertain whine, and then clicked his tongue. “Bill, I swear to God.”

He shuffled through the rest of the console, finding an extra clip.  _ “You ask too many questions,” _ he mocked. “You’d ask questions too if your husband was hiding two fully loaded nine millimetres in his car. What the fuck kind of business are you into, Bill?” Dipper muttered, shutting the console and looking up and out through the windshield just as the headlights died. Bill had taken the keys with them.

Dipper squinted and dug for his phone, trying to turn the flashlight on—and then he heard it. A light, faint scratching against the passenger door. Dipper took a second to nod to himself and accept his fate, before he turned to the right—

—Only to see two inquisitive and glowing eyes, staring back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello there! It's nice to see you again!
> 
> My beta is the lovely Emberglows!
> 
> Song for this chapter:  
> Amsterdam by Imagine Dragons
> 
> Want to stay updated? Want to chat or shoot me a prompt? Feel free to click [here](http://everyday-im-preaching.tumblr.com/) to do all these things and more!


	6. Hash-Slinging Slasher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello there, friends! Here you go, please enjoy! 
> 
> If you like this chapter, please leave a comment below! They're very inspiring :D

 

Dipper froze; fingers curled tightly around the gun in his hand. He clamped his lips together, pinching them between his teeth and giving a shaky inhale as the car  _ shook,  _ bumped by whatever was on the other side of the door. Dipper wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, banish the thing away like a nightmare—but he knew that would do little, and help nothing. So he kept his eyes wide, slinking down below the window, curling his legs tightly so he’d fit completely.

_ Of all the things to make me happy I’m not an alpha,  _ Dipper inwardly grumbled, keeping his eyes on the window. The eyes had disappeared back into the dark void of the night, but the car continued to shake. Dipper tried to cram himself down further, praying to every god he knew in hopes that  _ someone  _ heard him.

An eerie scratching wailed against the trunk of car and Dipper let out a soft, high-pitched whine. Every inch of him begged for Bill to return, to take care of whatever the  _ hell  _ was outside the car. He prayed it was just some large cat, investigating the vehicle to see if it was edible—but his mind reminded him coolly that cougars, at their tallest, stood at three feet—not nearly tall enough to peer into the window. And that all other large cats in the area were a fair bit smaller than cougar.

_ Could be a black bear,  _ he reasoned. No less scary, but better than some monster his mind decided to make up due to his situation. He double checked the gun in his hand, making sure he’d loaded the clip correctly. Not that he had any doubts, but he was anxious, and needed something to do with his hands.

He waited, and waited, and  _ waited.  _ Long after the rocking stopped. Long after the scratching subsided. Pressed hard against the floor and the door and legs cramping, he forced himself to stay still just a tad longer. Dipper was about to pull himself free when there was a sharp knock on the window.

Dipper jumped and cowered, until he realised that it was a very  _ human  _ hand on the window, and a pair of familiar brown eyes peering in. It was  _ Mabel.  _ He pulled himself free, wincing as his muscles protested with small aches. Mabel’s expression melted into one of relief, fingers splaying on the glass. Dipper laid a hand on the door handle, and then stopped, brow furrowing in distrust.

“Dipper? You okay?” Mabel asked, voice mildly muffled by the glass. Dipper nodded but didn’t open the door. He squinted at her, finding her features far too soft in the darkness for his taste. He wondered if she could see him at all. If she was  _ really  _ her at all. He cracked the window just enough to hear her, but not enough for her to wiggle her fingers through.

“I’m fine,” he answered after a minute, weighing his options. “I… Have you noticed the, uh...” He pressed tightly against the seat, trying to see her better. “Well, the entire world falling down around our ears?”

A low hum left Mabel’s mouth, escaping out of the corners of a frown—he’d know that sound anywhere. It was so familiar and comforting—it  _ had  _ to be Mabel. But Dipper didn’t want to take any chances.

“Kind of hard to miss?” Mabel offered, voice cracking across her words like a whip. “Look, Dipper, are you here alone? Where’s Bill? Have you seen anybody else?”  _ Are you even real _ ? The question was on the tip of Dipper’s tongue, echoing Mabel’s own.

“Bill’s in the shack,” Dipper told her, forcing his tongue to work. “Checking for you and Erin.” In the distance, Dipper could see the sky lightening, warm oranges and yellows bleeding into black and shifting the sky to blue. “Where’s Erin?”

“Inside the shack,” Mabel replied. “Dipper, we should go inside and have some sort of meeting, to decide what to do about this. I mean, Stan and Ford are missing. None of the phones are working. Erin, he’s…” Her fingers curled against the glass. “…He’s going into heat.”

Dipper froze. “That’s extremely inconvenient, considering—what if he—” He shook his head, pressing his palm to his forehead. “—Mabel, that’s bad.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Mabel hissed out; she took a moment, and Dipper heard her draw in a shuddering, unsteady breath. “I… I can’t afford to go into rut right now. Not until we know what’s going on.” She was so  _ scared.  _ Her voice shook with it.

“We came from the city, but we didn’t see anyone,” Dipper told Mabel, hand shifting to the door handle and fingers curling around it. “Just us. You said Stan and Ford are missing?” The sun had risen enough that Dipper could see her nod. “Fuck. What about the Stanmobile?”

“Gone,” Mabel muttered, barely mustering the energy to speak. “Gone, I don’t know if they went out to find out at the first sign of trouble or if this is some kind of  _ nightmare—” _

A shout interrupted their conversation.

“Step away.” Bill’s voice was more of a growl then anything—it died in his chest when he realised who was near the car. “Mabel?” Footsteps, scratching against gravel. And then two hundred pounds of alpha crashing into another—it was Mabel who’d lurched forward, gathering Bill into a hug so tight that Dipper thought Bill might suffocate. They clapped each other on the back and Dipper rolled his eyes. He tucked the gun into his inner jacket pocket, hoping the lining was thick enough that Bill wouldn’t be able to see it.

_ Alphas. _

Dipper tugged open the door, forcing the two alphas to take a step back. He was still careful but was relieved as strong arms wrapped around him as well, the familiar scent of his sister imparted onto him with the slight rub of her chin. She was soon bullied away from him and her scent was replaced with Bill’s.

“We need to get you inside,” Bill muttered. “You must be exhausted. You need to rest.” Dipper yelped as an arm swept under him, knocking him from his feet. He scrambled for Bill’s shirt as he was pulled into a bridal carry, lifting him clean off the ground. Lips found Dipper’s forehead and kissed there, gentle and soothing.

“I can  _ walk, _ ” Dipper muttered, but the fire from his voice was muted by the early morning air—it was crisp and cold, working under his clothes. Bill, on the other hand, was  _ warm.  _ Comforting.  _ Loving.  _ His scent was powerful and soothing, seeping into Dipper’s skin and easing the fear from him.

The silence that followed them to the shack was eerie. Dipper wasn’t fond of it, and certainly wasn’t fond of the soft beeping of the car locking behind them. He clutched at Bill’s shirt and closed his eyes, trying to think of what he could do to help Mabel’s situation. He knew that omegas could help others with just their presence—an omega in heat could be soothed by an omega who wasn’t.

Or so he was told.

Dipper wasn’t sure if it would work. Or if it was even true. Every omega he’d encountered up until this point were either years from their first heat, or his mother. Erin going into heat added a whole other layer of complicated to their situation. But they couldn’t  _ stop  _ it. Dipper didn’t have suppressants—he hadn’t been allowed them. He doubted Erin had been allowed them either, or the entire heat wouldn’t have come about in the first place.

Walking into the shack, Dipper choked; by  _ going into heat,  _ Mabel must’ve meant,  _ in heat.  _ Every corner of the building smelled of Erin—Dipper swayed on his feet as he was set down, trying to keep his head on straight. Erin smelled sweet. Like cotton candy, or a freshly opened bag of sugar. And yet both alphas looked rather unaffected by it.

“At least it’s warm in here,” Dipper muttered to himself; Bill was pulling his coat from him within seconds. “Where’s Erin?”

Mabel pointed at the staircase. “Bedroom.” She looked between Bill and Dipper, cheeks burning. She looked away from them, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “He said… He said he was nesting.” Mabel swallowed, turning her head up toward the second floor, and Dipper tried to ignore the low whine building in her throat. “I didn’t think omegas nested anymore.”

Bill jerked back, looking shocked. “Erin is in heat?” He looked at Dipper, and then Mabel. “I… He’s in the building? I didn’t find hide nor hair of him when I searched the shack.” He turned to look toward the staircase, and then back at Mabel. “Which bedroom? Why are you down here when he needs you?”

“ _ Our  _ bedroom,” Mabel huffed out, chest puffing up in defence. “The one we’re staying in until Soos comes back from vacation.” She took a step forward without thinking, putting herself between Bill and the stairwell. “I’m down here, because I heard a car.  _ Your car.  _ And what do you mean you didn’t find him?”

Dipper stepped forward, grabbing at Bill’s arm. “Mabel, go check on Erin,” he told her, voice low and soft and far too convincing for his taste. “If he’s really in heat, you need to make sure he’s safe.”

There was uncertainty in Mabel’s face, but fear for her mate won out.

“I’ll be back,” she muttered, pounding up the steps and into the darkness of the second floor; all the lights in the building were out, and the nightlight that was plugged in directly by the stairs. Dipper regarded it with suspicion, considering how his sister had always lamented the idea of Stan unplugging it—she claimed it made the stairs damn near unnavigable in the dark.

“I don’t trust this,” Bill said it before Dipper, curling his arm around him. “We need to leave.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Dipper’s head. “There’s no way Erin is here. It’s impossible, especially if he was in heat. I would smell him.”

Dipper flicked his eyes toward the living room, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. Everything looked like it was in its place, save for the lights.

“Try a light switch, first,” Dipper suggested, pointing at the hallway light. He felt himself tugged with Bill over to it. Bill flicked the light on—the lightbulb above  _ shattered,  _ and Dipper squeaked as Bill moved to cover him and protect him from the glass that came raining down.

“Are you okay?” Bill asked softly, checking Dipper’s face carefully. Dipper nodded, brow furrowed in confusion. He pushed away from Bill, despite the alpha’s insistent clicking.

“I’m fine, Bill, calm down,” Dipper told him, looking down at the shattered glass. “That might explain why all the lights are off.”

Bill entwined their fingers, tugging Dipper back before he could get too far. “Sugar pine, I know that you want to find a logical explanation for all of this, and I know you think that’s your sister—”

“—This has nothing to do with that,” Dipper said, turning to look him in the eye. “We don’t know what the hell is going on out there, and it’s completely possible that it’s causing the power to surge within the house—” He pointed at the discarded nightlight by the outlet. “—Meaning that Mabel would have turned the lights off to avoid damaging the light sockets on outlets.”

“But what if that’s not what happened?” Bill asked softly. “What if that’s not it?” Dipper shuddered as Bill ran a hand through his hair, mussing his curls and then tucking a piece behind his ear. “I don’t want to risk your safety.”

“You’re paranoid. The last thing we need is excess paranoia,” Dipper replied, grabbing at Bill’s hand before it could leave his face. “Let’s suss out the situation and be careful with our judgement.”

Bill let out a soft huff and kissed at Dipper’s cheek. “The car is a safer place for you.”

“I have to disagree,” Dipper told him, kissing him on the mouth. A purr broke free from Bill’s chest and he kissed back, lips firm and loving. “There’s something out there. Could be that that same something is in here too.” He flicked his eyes to the stairs.

Bill followed his gaze. “What do you mean,  _ something?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Emberglows in my beautiful, wonderful beta <3
> 
> Song for this chapter:  
> Go To Town by Doja Cat  
> You Gotta Die Sometime by Andrew Rannells 
> 
> Want to stay updated? Want to chat or shoot me a prompt? Have an idea that you'd like me to consider for this pairing? Feel free to click [here](http://everyday-im-preaching.tumblr.com/) to do all these things and more!


End file.
